


Reconciliation

by SerendipitousLyss



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Calamity, Stream of Consciousness, link only speaks when he needs to, romantic undertones, semi-verbal link, sometimes he has trouble verbalizing his feelings, this was supposed to be a fluffy post-calamity ficlet but it turned into angst really fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 10:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousLyss/pseuds/SerendipitousLyss
Summary: "Two weeks after the fall of Calamity Ganon, when her hundred years of fighting had finally ended, Princess Zelda awakens to the sound of humming."Link and Zelda have a much-needed talk over breakfast one morning. In it, they reconcile all the things that have changed about Hyrule and, most importantly, about themselves.





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scenario I've had in my head since I first started Breath of the Wild about a month ago. Mostly I just wanted some reunion feels between Link and Zelda because their relationship in botw is one of my favorites. I hope you all enjoy it! If you see something you like, let me know! It makes my day to hear from people who enjoy my writing. Thanks!

Two weeks after the fall of Calamity Ganon, when her hundred years of fighting had finally ended, Princess Zelda awakens to the sound of humming.

The tune is soft and sweet, a lullaby that Zelda doesn’t recognize but finds instantly beautiful. Slowly, she pushes herself into a sitting position, eyes still closed as she takes a deep breath of the morning air that trickles in through the tent’s cracked-open doorway. The canvas flap has been pulled aside and secured with a thin rope to allow the mid-morning sunlight to seep in, and the smell of meat and eggs wafts in on the breeze, making her mouth water.

Letting her sleepy eyes flutter open, Zelda lets out a contented sigh. Her body feels pleasantly warm and heavy from a good night’s sleep, and she stretches her arms above her head briefly before finally crawling out from beneath her blanket. The tent is empty aside from herself, though by the look of the upended backpack and assorted traveling gear strewn across the tent’s grassy floor, it hasn’t been so for long. She quickly retrieves a change of clothes from within the bag’s seemingly infinite depths and runs a brush through her hair to rid it of tangles, allowing the humming from outside to fill her with a sense of peace.

The humming stops abruptly as Zelda ducks out of the tent and stretches to her full height, and, glancing over towards last night’s campfire, she notices her traveling companion looking up at her.

Link smiles, softly and easily, as he pokes at a cooking pot with a wooden spoon. His smile, she notices, is slightly crooked and bright white, exactly as she remembers it. “Good morning, princess,” he greets. “Are you hungry?”

Even after two weeks of listening to him speak, Zelda can’t help the giddiness that briefly sweeps through her at hearing his voice again. It was one of many things she had missed dearly during her hundred long years; Link’s voice is quiet but rough, his sentences short and to the point, and the sound of it is oddly comforting. She knew it was safe when she could listen to him talk, hear him humming in the quiet of the morning when no one and nothing else was around to bother him. At the very least, it was nice to know that some things would never change.

“Yes, food sounds wonderful right now,” Zelda replies with a smile of her own, and sits herself down across the fire from Link so she can watch him cook. His hair is longer, she notices, but he’s kept his low half-ponytail even after all these years. Perhaps he didn’t feel it go by. Perhaps, to him, it all passed as quickly as a dream, as he slumbered safely in the Shrine of Resurrection. She hums, tilting her head curiously. Outwardly, he looks the same, from his bright blue eyes, to the determined look on his face, to the Champion’s tunic and darkness-sealing sword strapped to his back. She’s still able to pick up on his body language and nonverbal cues, a form of communication they’d mastered from all the long days of traveling around Hyrule together. It’s comforting, knowing that their relationship hasn’t suffered due to everything that’s happened. Still, a part of Zelda’s brain nagged at her, telling her that something about him was different.

Link only notices her stares as he’s filling two plates with an egg and beef concoction, and as he hands her a plate he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, wordlessly asking if she’s alright.

Zelda hums out a thank-you as she takes the plate from him. “I was just thinking about how you haven’t changed much, even after one hundred years,” she says after a moment. “You look and sound just how I remember you.” Chuckling, she sets the plate in her lap. “There were times when I feared that you might have changed beyond recognition because of what happened to you. I’m happy that wasn’t the case.”

Link frowns slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and Zelda can see that he’s searching for the right words. She waits, taking bites from her breakfast as he gathers his thoughts.

“I think I have, in a way. Changed, I mean,” he says at last, and Zelda meets his eyes once again as he continues. “I’ve…” He pauses, looking frustrated as the words fail to come. Zelda offers him a reassuring smile as he opens and closes his mouth, sighing. After a moment, he continues, “I grew up under a lot of pressure to succeed. Fear of failure and my desire to do what I thought I was required to… it, um…”

“You thought you had to be strong and silent in order to be considered a good knight,” Zelda finishes knowingly. “You were trying to conform to expectations of what you felt you needed to be.”

Link nods and smiles, relieved. “Yes, thank you. Those feelings… they held me back, back then. There were things I wanted to do and say, but I didn’t. Waking up without memories changed that. There was no one telling me how I should act. Most people didn’t even know who I was!” He laughs at this, a gentle and melodic laugh that makes Zelda’s chest feel warm.

“I think I understand,” Zelda says with a smile. “I’ve noticed, these last few weeks, that you speak more often, and more freely. I feel as though I’m truly seeing you for the first time. It makes me happy that you feel comfortable enough around me not to mince your words.”

Link looks up sharply, the tips of his ears reddening slightly as he laughs, looking embarrassed. “Do I really sound like that?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, suppose that’s a good thing.”

Zelda nods. “It is good. When you first came to me as my knight, you hardly let a single word pass your lips. It felt as though I was being followed around by some sort of autonomous doll sent by my father to make sure I wasn’t slacking off.” She rolls her eyes for drama’s sake and grins at the way Link stifles a laugh behind his hand, attempting to disguise it as a cough. “I’ve already admitted to acting quite childishly about the whole situation, but it still did take me quite a while to glean a full sentence from you once I’d changed my narrow view of things. I’m glad I never gave up trying. I think I would have regretted it if I had.”

“You’re awfully sentimental today,” Link comments.

Zelda hums thoughtfully. “I suppose so,” she concedes. “My mind seems to be lost in memories of the past today. I think I’m still trying to reconcile everything that’s been lost. There’s much to be done if Hyrule is to be revived, but I feel as though the scale of the damages is something that hasn’t quite sunk in yet. If I think about it too long, and too deeply, it starts to seem more and more impossible.” She clasps her hands together tightly, her breakfast sitting abandoned on the ground beside her, and she frowns. “My father once told me that I am an heir to a throne of nothing but failure. Perhaps this is what he meant. My kingdom is in ruins, my people are scattered and my memory has nearly vanished from the minds of those who know my name. It all just seems so… impossible.”

Something wet falls onto the thigh of her dark leggings, and it’s then that Zelda realizes she’s begun to cry. She hastily swipes at the traitorous tears, feeling her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to think so deeply or say so much, and suddenly she feels incredibly small and absurdly foolish. 

By the time she’s moved her hands from her face, Link is already kneeling in front of her, bright blue eyes filled with concern. She opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it again, not trusting herself with words for the moment. She doesn’t need to speak, though. Link’s gaze softens and he spreads his arms wide, beckoning. “Come here,” he murmurs.

It’s all Zelda needs. Sniffling, she throws her stubborn pride to the wind and falls into Link’s embrace, hiding her face in his shoulder and clinging to the back of his shirt as she cries. He holds her firmly but carefully, and his embrace is safe, and warm, and everything Zelda has felt has been missing from her life since she was freed from her hundred year battle. _Gods,_ had she missed this. Missed _him_. One hundred years’ worth of tension, anxiety, and powerlessness overflows at last as she anchors herself to Link, letting him ground her as she finally lets herself feel everything she’s bottled up since before the Calamity had even appeared.

It takes a few minutes for Zelda to run out of tears, and as her sobs and sniffles subside, she realizes that she can feel Link trembling beneath her fingers. His grip on her tightens slightly, his fingers clinging to her shirt and drawing her even closer. It’s as though he’s afraid to let go, and as she listens, she hears him fighting back sobs of his own, his face hidden in her hair. “I-I’m sorry I left you alone,” he stutters after a few seconds of this, voice wavering as he tries to keep his failing emotions under check. “I couldn’t protect you when it mattered. I left you to fight by yourself for so many years, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Zelda gently separates herself from Link, taken aback by the sudden show of emotion from the typically stoic hero. His eyes and cheeks are pink from crying, and his bangs are ruffled from being pressed against her head. She smiles a watery smile and reaches out to wipe away a tear from his cheek with the pad of her thumb, her sorrows forgotten. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry,” she says, smiling affectionately as she rests her hand against his jaw. “It’s okay, Link. You have nothing to be sorry for. Every one of us did the best we could in the situation. No one is to blame for what transpired.” 

Link nods, leaning subconsciously into Zelda’s touch as the palm of her hand leaves warm trails along his jaw. He doesn’t look her in the eye, but he doesn’t back away either. For now, it’s enough. “I know,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

Zelda’s hand lingers for a moment before dropping from Link’s face as she reaches down and squeezes his hands reassuringly. “You’ve saved my life more times than I could ever possibly pay you back for. If anything, I should apologize to you for all the trouble I’ve caused you.” She frames the statement as a joke, but she means every word of it.

Link chuckles, wiping his eyes briefly, and he lifts his head to finally meet her gaze. Then he stands, but not before leaning forward to press a brief, fond kiss to Zelda’s forehead. “Oh, princess, having you back is more than enough for me,” he replies, and Zelda’s breath hitches. She’s never heard him speak in such an affectionate tone, more used to his comfortable silence or short, to-the-point statements. She’s surprised to find that she enjoys this version of Link much more.

The kiss combined with Link’s words sends a flush of warmth through Zelda’s whole body, and she can’t help the giddy grin that tugs at the corners of her mouth as Link turns away from her and begins dutifully packing up his cooking supplies. Zelda follows his lead, shouldering her backpack as the two of them pack up their camp in comfortable silence.

Hours later, when they’ve cleaned their dishes and packed their bags for the road, Zelda stares into the horizon as the sun slowly rises higher in the sky and smiles contentedly. Link comes up beside her, carefully testing the ties keeping their tent secured to the top of his pack, and turns to face her with a gentle, crooked smile. “Ready to go? Zora’s domain is still a few days away, so we should make tracks as soon as possible,” he says.

Zelda glances down, double-checking her map briefly before slipping it into her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she gives a firm nod. “Yes, we’d better get moving. We have a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to rebuild Hyrule. I’m trusting you to watch my back out there, hero.” She grins mischievously, gently teasing.

Link laughs, his ponytail catching the light of the mid-morning sun, and he fixes Zelda with an earnest gaze. “Of course, princess. I couldn’t dream of something better.”

Zelda takes a deep breath, hiking her backpack higher up on her shoulders as she stares at the path ahead. “Alright, then, off we go.” She takes a step forward, Link at her side, and together they walk, chasing the horizon that leads towards their destiny.


End file.
